Farfie At Macy's
by Silent Sensei
Summary: Insane Farfie and department stores like Macy's just don't mix well. See why!


FARFIE AT MACY'S  
by Kayoko (trublu39@hotmail.com)  
  
No idea what I just finished, so please R&R. Even flaming would be welcome, cuz this still doesn't make sense to me... Disclaimer -   
the Schwartz bishonen don't belong to me. They belong do somebody else. Don't sue, don't sue...  
  
**********  
  
"CRAWFORD!"   
  
The American ran down the stairs, dressed in only plaid boxers, a jacket and tie, to find Nagi jumping up and down on his bed and   
bawling. Pictures of various idol singers had been thrown around the room, and all his My Little Pony figures were missing heads and   
fluffy little tails.  
  
"What? What happened?"  
  
Nagi stopped screaming to answer. "Farfie came into my room, and he, he..." The Japanese boy began crying uproariously, shaking   
down some of his cloud wall hangings.  
  
Crawford sighed. The last time Nagi had been like this was when Schuldich had accidentally used the last of his Strawberry   
Passion - "To unleash the goddess in you!" shampoo. "What did Farf do, Nagi?"  
  
Nagi dragged out two mysterious bundles from under the covers. Crawford squinted at them, without his glasses on they looked a   
lot like mutilated bunny slippers...  
  
"Nani?"  
  
Nagi nodded and sniffed. "He put them in the blender because he says God doesn't like it when bunnies are pureed..." Nagi went off   
again and Crawford left, closing the door and taking the slippers with him to find Farfarello.   
  
(Meanwhile, at Macy's...)  
  
"C'mon Farf, Crawford and Nagi were still asleep when we left, and it's not like I could just leave you at home..."  
  
The Irishman glared and continued chewing the mouthful of white fuzz. Schuldich rolled his eyes and pulled the leash, dragging the   
psychopath into the men's section.  
  
"I just have to get some new briefs because you ate my last pair. So just wait here and be good. And no biting the salespeople."   
Schu tied the leash around a chair and left.  
  
Farfie looked around at the mannequins, all dressed in dark suits or polo shirts, quietly chewing his bunny slipper head. The   
mannequins stared back, with their blank white eyes and shiny plaster heads...They looked so smug, as they stood there with golf   
clubs and briefcases in hands...with their crimson ties and leather shoes...  
  
How dare they smirk at him! They were so clean and perfect! I bet they were good Christians too, Farfie thought to himself. He   
circled them, sniffing and crawling as he stretched the leash taut. Suddenly, he attacked!   
  
Doing his "lion-on-the-Serengeti" impression, Farfie ripped off their pretty vests and stabbed them with their own golf clubs.   
Fifteen minutes later, he was done, sitting calmly in a pile of white powdered plaster and wool prep shirts, looking at all the stunned  
people around him. Schuldich stepped out of the dressing room, satisfied with his fresh new undies. He looked around for Farfie,   
when the Irishman came bounding up, tugging at his leash.  
  
"Were you a good boy, Farf?" The silver haired man nodded, grinning and chewing the puff from a golf hat.  
  
"Good. Now let's go home and See what Crawford thinks of my underwear."   
  
(Back at the house...)  
  
Crawford had finally finsihed getting dressed, and now he surveyed himself in the mirror, happy that he looked like the slick, suave   
asshole he was.  
  
"You are one sexy bitch, Brad..." he crooned to himself, kissing the mirror. He had just stuck out his tongue to lick the glass when   
Nagi burst in through the door. He looked at him curiously, tilting his head.  
  
"Crawford...what were you doing?" The American straightened up and adjusted his tie, glaring at the younger boy.  
  
"Nothing. I was doing absolutely nothing."  
  
"Okay...Anyways...I just wanted to tell you that Schu-schu and Farfie are home. They came in through the back door."   
  
"Alright, I'll go talk to them."  
  
Farfarello ran into the living room, then back outside when he heard old Soka-san next door coming out with her poodle Nyan-Nyan.   
Crawford could hear the 90-year old woman's shrieks and the sound of her beating Farfie on the head with her 20-pound purse as he   
chased her dog down the street. He looked out the window as the old lady raced by in pursuit of the Irishman, her polyester skirt   
flying in the wind. Crawford shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the room, stopping when he saw Schu, dressed only in his spick-  
and-span new Hanes.   
  
"Nandeska, Schu?"  
  
The redhead grinned and held up a bottle of Strawberry Passion lotion. Crawford was about to reply when the sounds of Soka-san   
grabbing Farfie in a headlock drifted in from outside.   
  
Schuldich tugged at Brad's tie and diverted his attention. "You know, I'd look pretty good in a skirt too..."  
  
~owari~   
  
Gomen, gomen, I was soooooo wasted when I wrote this. Never never mix Mountain Blast Powerade with Equal and Nestea.   
*shudders, rocking back and forth* No sleep for the insane...remember to review! 


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